


A Shot in the Dark

by phantomsong



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alive Mello | Mihael Keehl, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bilingual Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Characters With Violent Pasts, Childhood Friends, Disabled Character, Emotional Dumbassery, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Introspection, Mello living in Near's basement is just funny to me idk why, Mello swears A LOT, Memories, Mutual Pining, Near and Mello learn to get along with the help of a mutual friend, Nightmares, Original Sequel, References to PTSD, Set in America, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, aro/ace Near, bisexual Mello, dealing with the aftermath of the Kira case, get these kids some therapy honestly, main OC is a Wammy's kid, main couple is m/f but in a very bisexual way, original Wammy's House lore, rivals to friends, though to be fair to Mello he's trying to go legit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-20 14:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30006513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomsong/pseuds/phantomsong
Summary: Thanks to a timely intervention from an old friend, Mello survives the Kira case. After settling his debts, he finds himself broke and alone, with no choice but to approach his rival for his half of the remainder of L’s inheritance. Begrudgingly, he moves into the basement suite of the house that Near shares with his loyal bodyguard, an estranged friend from Mello’s childhood at Wammy’s House who happens to be the very same person that saved his life months ago. As Mello adjusts to his new reality, healing from the trauma of losing his best friend as well as allowing himself to reconnect with an old one, a series of ritualized murders that feel strangely familiar comes to Near’s attention. Suddenly, all three ex-Wammy’s kids are swept up in a dangerous web of secrets and lies where murderers hide in plain sight and politicians spur on a deadly populist rage. Can L’s successors put aside their differences long enough to bring an insidious new enemy to justice, or will Kira’s shadowy legacy finally destroy the World’s Greatest Detective(s) once and for all?
Relationships: Matt | Mail Jeevas & Mello | Mihael Keehl, Mello | Mihael Keehl & Near | Nate River, Mello | Mihael Keehl & Original Female Character(s), Mello | Mihael Keehl/Original Female Character(s), Near | Nate River & Original Female Character(s), past Matt/OC (mentioned)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 3





	1. Debt

MANCHESTER, UK

_She looks just like her father,_ Mello thought, watching the red-headed toddler lean her head back and giggle gleefully as her mother pushed her on the swing. He slouched against the pole of the swingset, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his fur-lined jacket. “Damn, they sure do grow up fast.”

“Language, Mello,” Coral chided him, giving her daughter another gentle push. 

“Oh, shit-- I mean, crap. Sorry.” He glanced around, making sure there weren’t any other kids in earshot. Fortunately, the rest of the neighbourhood’s parents had decided to remain indoors, leaving the park nearly vacant. It worked to his benefit, anyways, as he was certain that one look at his scarred face would almost instantly land him on some sort of child predator list. “What I, uh, meant is… She’s just… gotten so big since I last saw her, is all.”

“Yeah…” There was a distant look in the young mother’s eyes. “She certainly has.”

_Grinning, Matt beckoned his best friend over. “C’mon, Mells. It’s okay. She won’t bite.”_

_Mello hesitantly stepped forwards, peering over the edge of the crib at the tiny infant below. “She’s… tiny.”_

_“She’s a baby. Of course she’s tiny.” Matt laughed, good-natured as ever. “You wanna hold her?”_

_“You can’t be serious--” Mello started to say, but the red-headed young man gently scooped his daughter up and offered her to him. “Matt, I can’t hold your baby.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because I’ll… drop her, or something.”_

_“On purpose?”_

_“Of course not!”_

_“Then don’t worry. Just hold out your arms.”_

_Reluctantly, Mello did as Matt asked, and his friend handed the infant to him. The baby fussed slightly, but didn’t wake from her deep slumber._

_Panic instantly gripped Mello, the realization hitting him that he was now responsible for the immediate safety of this tiny little life. There was no room here for the tough skin and hard edges he’d built up since leaving Wammy’s House._

_“Dude, relax,” Matt said with a laugh. “You’re doing just fine.”_

_“I don’t know how you can possibly trust me with this,” Mello muttered, his whole body tense, as if even the slightest move could cause irreparable harm to the sleeping infant in his arms._

_“You’re my best friend. Of course I trust you with this. You’re her Uncle Mello, after all, right?”_

_“That’s an honour you should bestow on a better person than me.” Mello sighed. “You know I didn’t come here to babysit.”_

_“You came because of the Kira case,” Matt said with a nod. “You need my help with something, don’t you?”_

_“I… I don’t know who else I can turn to. My associates are all dead… Kira probably has my full name… I sure as shit can’t work with Near, and as for Joey… Well, she’s made her position quite clear. But… if it’s too much to ask--”_

_“Nah, man. It’s fine. I’ll help.”_

_Mello looked surprised. “You will?”_

_“Of course.” Matt smiled. “You’re my best friend-- hell, you’re practically my brother. Whatever you need, I’m in.”_

_“What about Coral?”_

_“She’ll understand.”_

_Glancing back down at the baby in his arms, he rocked her slightly, starting to finally feel more at ease. “Damn, Matt. You’re a lucky bastard, you know? Your version of making a mistake is creating this little thing, while mine is nearly blowing half my face off.”_

_“Hey,” Matt said with a shrug. “It’s like Bob Ross says. There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.”_

_Happy accidents…_

“Mello?” Coral’s voice shook him from his thoughts, and he glanced over at her. 

“Hmm?”

“You said you had something for me, when you called me up out of the blue last week and asked me to meet with you,” she reminded him.

“Oh. Yeah.” Fiddling with the folded piece of paper in his pocket, he pulled it out and handed it to her.

Coral’s eyes widened as she unfolded the paper. “I don’t understand… What is this?”

“It’s payback.” He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “I know it won’t change the past, but… maybe it can help secure Rennie’s future.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “This isn’t some kind of… blood money, is it? Matt didn’t tell me much, but I know you were involved in organized crime of some sort. I’m not stupid.”

“It’s all legitimate, I swear. Every cent I have to my name is there. I sold everything I own and had a few people pay me back their debts. Now I’m just paying back what I owe.”

“I don’t know… Taking money, in exchange for his life… It just feels wrong.”

“It’s not about his life. It’s about _hers._ ” He indicated towards the child on the swing. “Matt would want me to do what I could to take care of his family in his absence.” He paused as he felt the spectre of self-loathing creep up behind him. _Especially since I’m the one who got him killed. That kid is gonna grow up without a dad, and it’s all my fault._ “Just… start a college fund, or something.”

Coral still looked unconvinced. “Are you sure? How are you gonna survive?”

“I still have my half of L’s inheritance. I’ve already made arrangements with Near.”

“You actually contacted Near?” She sounded surprised. 

“Yeah. Call it my penance.” His hand reached up to grasp the rosary that hung around his neck. “Take the money, Coral. Do it for Matt, and for Rennie.”

He could see the conflicted feelings flit through her eyes as she gazed down at the cheque. It had even been signed with his real name, as if laying out the vulnerability that had almost gotten him killed nearly a year prior would somehow convince her of his sincerity. The way she had looked at him earlier that day when he first approached her at the park… Coral would never admit to it, but her utter hatred of him emanated out of her like the shockwaves of the explosion that had damaged his body beyond repair. He could only guess at the myriad of things she had wanted to scream at him.

Murderer. Criminal. Complicit in the deaths of men far better than he would ever be. 

And she would have been well within her right to do so. 

His gaze shifted over to Rennie. The toddler’s tiny hands were grasped onto the chains that held the swing up. Her soft red hair poked out from underneath the tiny knitted Pokémon hat her father had surely bought for her before he had met his untimely fate. For a moment, he envied her. So blissfully unaware of the world and its cruel designs. 

At long last, Coral sighed and tucked the cheque into her coat pocket. “I’ll… think about it. Do you… Do you need somewhere to stay for a few days? I can always set up the couch--”

“No, it’s fine,” he interrupted her. _I’ve been enough of a burden on your life as it is._ “I’m flying back to America early tomorrow morning. If you need to contact me for whatever reason, I have a room booked at the Holiday Inn near the airport.”

“Okay, well, you know I’d never turn away Matt’s best friend, should you ever need anything.” Coral brought the swing to a halt and gently lifted her daughter out of it. She crouched down, meeting the toddler at eye level. “It’s time to go home now, sweetie. Can you say bye-bye to your Uncle Mello?”

Rennie enthusiastically waved her tiny hand at him. “Bye-bye!” 

“Bye to you too, Serenity,” he told her, smiling. “You be good for your mom, okay?”

She beamed up at him. “Okay!”

Coral stood back up and took her daughter’s hand. “You stay out of trouble too, Mello. Don’t make Matt’s sacrifice worth nothing by getting yourself killed.”

“I won’t,” he promised her. _And don’t worry. This is the last you’ll hopefully ever see of me. I don’t intend to cause either of you any more pain._

Giving him one last sad smile, the young woman escorted her child out of the park, wandering back down the road. Mello watched them go, feeling his shoulders drop as he finally let out the breath he’d been holding in. _Matt… I hope I did right by you. I know I still have a long way to go in making up for my mistakes… but I hope that was a good first step._

With a heavy heart, he meandered over to the nearest bus stop that would take him back to the centre of the city, the dead autumn leaves crunching under his boot with each step. A chilly wind blew past him, and he shivered, glad that he had decided to put on a long-sleeved shirt underneath his jacket rather than his favourite sleeveless leather crop top. Sometimes looking badass had to compromise with the weather, particularly on a grey, bleary day like this one where the temperature hovered around two degrees Celsius. Besides, his badass days were behind him now, both by circumstance and by choice. 

Mello tried to ignore the strange glare that the bus driver gave him as he boarded the vehicle, dropping a few coins into the payment slot. The machine whirred as it printed him out a ticket, which he took, averting his gaze as he made his way to the very back of the bus. A year ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to stare the guy down until he cowered beneath the heels of the former mafioso’s polished black boots. But Mihael Keehl, the Old World’s Runner-Up, self-proclaimed King of the Underground, was gone. And all he had left in his place was the shell of a broken young man with nothing to show for his accomplishments but an ugly scar. 

He pressed his head against the cold pane of the bus window and closed his eyes, fiddling with the cellphone in his pocket. One of the first things he had bought for himself back when he still had his resources from his time in the mob was a brand-new iPhone, for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure. There wasn’t anyone he particularly wanted to talk to, through calling or by text. He had tried to rationalize the rather impulsive purchase through reminding himself that having constant access to the internet was a must in this day and age, and the built-in GPS made it easy for him to get around, figuring that the only person who would have the capability of tracking his movements would be Near-- who would have likely been able to do so anyways, iPhone or no iPhone. In the end, though, all he ever really used it for, besides those few practical purposes, was to play the couple of dumb word games he had downloaded to keep himself entertained during his travels. Well, that, and listen to one particular message he had received in what felt like a long time ago.

Sighing, he found himself once again pulling out the phone, his fingers habitually dialing the voicemail number, and pressing it to his ear. 

“You have no new messages, and one saved message. To play your saved message, press--” He interrupted the automated voice by hitting the key that he knew off by heart. The phone’s speaker crackled with static as he waited for it to begin playing. 

“ _Uh, hey, Mello. It’s-- It’s me,_ ” spoke a familiar female voice, her lilting accent clearly distinguishable despite the poor quality of her phone’s mic. “ _Near gave me your new number, so… I guess I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing, but you didn’t answer the phone, so I’m just gonna talk to your voicemail, now, I guess…_ ” Her laugh sounded slightly nervous. “ _Um… So… I hope you’re okay, and-- and maybe you don’t want to talk to me-- which is fine, I totally get it-- but in case you do… um… just call this number back. But, uh, anyways. I know we didn’t have much of a chance to catch up, being too busy going after Kira and all…_ ” She laughed again, but this time he could detect a hint of bitterness, particularly when mentioning the name of that damned murderer. “ _I just… I just want you to know that I don’t have any hard feelings about, well, any of it. I don’t know if Lidner gave you the same speech about forgiveness and letting go of the past, since she’s pretty much adopted both of us-- and Near, too, of course-- but… yeah. That’s where I stand. So, um… Thanks for saving my life, and you’re welcome for yours._ ” When she let herself laugh once more, he recognized it as one that was unmistakably genuine. “ _I hope we can talk soon. Bye._ ” The phone clicked, ending the message. 

He sighed. It had been nine months now, and he still couldn’t think of the right words to say back. Not like it mattered anymore. Nine months was more than long enough to be rightfully annoyed when someone didn’t return your call. Truth be told, he had tried, but every time he dialled her number, he could never bring himself to hit that damned green button. 

_Sorry, Matt. Sorry, Jo. You both deserve-- or deserved-- a better friend than me._


	2. Found

FREDERICK, MARYLAND, USA

“Near, have you seen Figaro lately?”

“Did you check the bowels of Hell?”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Joey said sarcastically, crossing her arms. “But seriously. I have to leave in like, five minutes.”

Near placed another Lego brick down on the massive replica he was constructing of the Empire State Building in their living room. “There’s at least a seventy-percent chance that he’s under the downstairs bed again. And you really should be more subtle about bringing out his kennel. He’s developed a Pavlovian response to the thing.”

“Ugh. Yeah. Probably.” Sighing, she took the safety lock off the cupboard and rummaged around for the bag of cat treats she kept on the highest shelf. She had learned very early on not to underestimate the climbing capabilities, the dexterous paws, and the sheer determination that her newfound furry companion possessed. “Figaro, kom hit!” she called out, switching into her native tongue as she rattled the treat bag around. “Vill du ha en godisbit? Kom, kisse kisse!”

She waited. Minutes later, as if on cue, the tips of two little black ears were visible from the top of the stairway that led down to the basement suite. “Hej, kissekatt! Ksskssksskss!”

The kitten made his way to the top step, his ears still perked as Joey shook the treat bag. She bent down, holding a treat out in her hands. “Kssksskssksskss! Kom hit, kisse!”

Figaro cautiously approached her. Sniffing the treat in her hands, he decided it was satisfactory, and took it. It was all the time she needed to scoop him up. 

Meowing loudly in protest, he squirmed, flailing his sharp little claws around as she carried him over to his kennel and gently placed him in. “There. You’re not getting out of going to the vet today. …Hey, I’m just trying to keep you alive, you know,” she told him as he mewed at her disapprovingly. 

Carrying the kennel (and the thoroughly freaked-out kitty it contained) over to the front door, she bent down and slipped on a pair of running shoes, first starting with her right foot, and then more carefully navigating the left shoe over her prosthesis. 

“You should have him declawed while you’re there,” Near said from his spot on the living room floor. “Or maybe lobotomized. Whatever it takes for him to stop destroying the house.”

“He’s a _kitten,_ Near,” she reminded him, even though she knew he was joking. Well, mostly joking. “Destroying stuff is what he does best.”

“He’s eaten thirteen puzzle pieces, knocked over my dice replica of the Tower Bridge, and ran right through my card pyramid _while I was building it._ And that’s just all in the last week.”

“It’s not his fault he doesn’t know the difference between cat toys and human toys.”

“He chewed up my old Kira figurine.” She could detect a hint of irritation in Near’s usual matter-of-fact tone. “It took me three weeks to get it perfected.”

She smirked. “If I didn’t know better, Nate, I’d think that you’re sulking.”

“Because you _do_ know better, Johanna, then you know that there’s no point in being upset about such a thing,” he replied. “But, if you don’t find a way to keep him contained, I’m going to have to invest in a new hobby.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Taxidermy.”

“That’s so rude.” She stuck her index finger in between the bars of the kennel. “Don’t you listen to him, Figaro. He doesn’t mean it.”

The kitten mewed in response. 

“Oh, and by the way, Joey, I need you to be back before five o’clock at the very latest. You’re going to have to prepare the basement suite. We have a guest coming by.”

She groaned. “Ugh, it never ends with you, does it? I don’t want to do any more cleaning today. Can’t you just call Gevanni or something?”

“I’m not going to abuse our contacts like that. And you know, I _am_ technically your boss,” he reminded her. 

“And I’m _technically_ your bodyguard, but the only thing I’ve protected you from lately is having to actually do chores,” she retorted.

“I’ve been busy with the case. Besides, if I recall correctly, I was the one who had to clean up the fern that _your_ abomination of a feline tore to shreds yesterday.”

“Yeah, because I was out at the time, doing _your_ errands.” She checked her watch. “Shit, I gotta go. There’s leftover tuna casserole in the fridge if you get hungry.”

“Okay, thanks,” Near responded. “Good luck getting whatever demonic entity is possessing your cat to cooperate with the veterinarian.” 

She grimaced, already picturing the patchwork of red marks Figaro’s sharp little claws would surely leave on the poor vet’s face, should they get too close. “Trust me, I’ll need it. Later, Near.”

“Later,” he echoed. 

† --------- † --------- † 

“Lucia Eriksson?”

Joey sat up as soon as she heard the familiar name of her alias called aloud by the veterinary assistant. Dutifully, she picked up Figaro’s kennel and brought him, still meowing loudly in complaint, into the checkup room.

“Good to see you again, Ms. Eriksson,” the veterinarian, Dr. Mackenzie, greeted her, though his expression soured slightly upon seeing the tiny black-and-white kitten through the kennel’s bars. “And Figaro, of course.”

“I tried to trim his claws a bit before I brought him this time,” she said apologetically. 

“Ha, I bet he was quite the handful.”

“More like armful.” She rolled back the sleeves of her sweatshirt to reveal scratches running up and down both of her arms, casualties of the nail-clipping battle. 

The veterinarian chuckled as he prepared the syringes. “Don’t worry, we’re only doing a few booster shots today. Nothing to get excited about. Would you mind withdrawing the patient?”

She carefully pulled her kitten out of his kennel and placed him on the examination table. Dr. Mackenzie gently held onto his scruff, getting ready to give the tiny cat his shot. Figaro yowled loudly, flailing around in a desperate attempt to break out of the vet’s grasp. 

“Lugna dig, Figaro,” Joey murmured, holding his back paws steady. “Var snäll och lugna ner dig. Oroa dig inte.”

_There was something moving in the cardboard box, Joey realized, pausing her music. She had just stopped to check how many miles she’d done so far and take a sip of water when she’d noticed the discarded box someone had haphazardly tossed onto the side of the road, sticking partway out of the ditch._

_At first, she was annoyed by what she had increasingly come to understand as a very nonchalant, very American approach to littering, but as she got closer, she began to notice something rather strange. Something in that box was alive._

_She lifted the cardboard flap and peered into the box, letting out a gasp at what she saw. Inside were three tiny kittens. Two of them weren’t moving, and when she took off her gloves to gently press the back of her hand against their fur, her worst fears were confirmed. The third kitten, however, let out a small squeak, its little paw weakly flexing._

_Panic shot through her as she grabbed the one living kitten without hesitation, holding it close to her chest as she took off, sprinting towards the house. Thankfully, she was only a few blocks away. “Near!” She pounded her fist against the door. “Near, quick! Open up!”_

_“What’s going on?” Near asked, rubbing his eyes as he pulled the door open._

_“Kitten,” was all she said, panting, as she ran into the kitchen, grabbing the nearest towel and her car keys. “Will explain later.”_

_Bundling the kitten up in the towel and placing it in the passenger seat, she revved the engine of her Saab 9-7X, not bothering to care that she was clearly pushing the speed limit as she drove out of the residential area and headed towards town. She was fortunate that she happened to actually know where the CARE Veterinary Center was, just off Highway 40. Doing stupid, inane errands for Near sometimes had its benefits, and figuring out the local area pretty well was certainly one of them._

_She fidgeted restlessly in the waiting room while the kitten was taken into emergency care. It was impossible for her to fathom how anyone could dare treat animals that way, tossing them aside like trash. Though it had been too late for the kitten’s two siblings, she had to hold onto hope that the one she had brought in could possibly make it out of the horrible situation alive._

_Moments later, the veterinarian emerged. “Are you Lucia Eriksson?” he asked her, and she nodded. “Well, then, Ms. Eriksson. You have excellent timing. Any longer and I’m afraid there wouldn’t be much we could do for the poor little guy.”_

_“Will he be okay?” She couldn’t help the quaver in her voice._

_“Yes, he’ll be fine. We’ll keep him overnight to continue treating him, but you can come pick him up tomorrow afternoon.”_

_For a second, she was confused. “Oh, he’s not my cat,” she explained quickly. “He’s a stray. I just found him in a box.”_

_The vet blinked. “Oh, okay, well, in that case I suppose we’ll have to take him to the shelter, then. Perhaps the ASPCA.”_

_He began to turn away, checking his clipboard for his next assignments. Joey bit her lip, a feeling of uneasiness washing over her._

There are many types of monsters in this world… 

_“Wait,” she said, reaching out to stop the vet from leaving. “Can I see him again?”_

_“Sure.” He led her into a small room where a veterinary assistant was keeping watch over the tiny ball of fluff. The kitten stumbled over his feet, still groggy from whatever drugs he had been given, as he tried to swipe at a little plastic bottle the assistant had decided to let him play with._

_Joey knelt down. “Ksskssksskss,” she said softly, trying to get his attention. His ears perked up and he stared at her for a second before slowly and clumsily trotting over. He began to purr as she stroked his head, smoothing down his soft fur. She let out a sigh, knowing that she was well and truly defeated. “Okay. I surrender. I’ll keep him.”_

_“Well, congratulations,” said the vet, unable to contain his smile. “Looks like you’re a Cat Mom, now, Ms. Eriksson.”_

_“Yeah,” she said, holding in a laugh as the kitten almost ran into the wall while going after the makeshift toy. “I guess I am.”_

“What language is that, if you don’t mind me asking?” There was curiosity in Dr. Mackenzie’s voice as he quickly pumped down on the syringe, ignoring Figaro’s enraged hissing. 

“Swedish,” Joey answered, stroking her kitten’s soft fur soothingly. 

“Ah, yes. Eriksson-- that makes sense. I was wondering about the accent. Were you born there?”

“Yeah. Stockholm.”

“You’re quite a ways from home,” he remarked as he finished administering the first shot. “Do you miss it?”

“Certainly not the winters,” she joked. “But I, uh… I didn’t live there a lot, growing up. I spent most of my time at a… um… boarding school in England-- since I was about nine years old, anyways-- so… it’s been awhile since I’ve returned to Sweden, even just to visit.”

“You have family there?”

“Yes, though I don’t see them as often as I’d like.” _Or at all, actually…_

“Ah. Such is life, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Such is life.”

_“Sooo…” Aunt Merrie started, leaning back in the train seat as she removed her dark sunglasses, placing them atop her large furry hat. “You thought up a nickname yet?”_

_Johanna glanced up, her brow furrowing at the prompt. “Why do the kids there have to have nicknames?”_

_“Because it’s a very special place, for… very special kids. Top secret and all that.” She winked at her younger second cousin. “Not many people even know it exists.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yep.”_

_“Then how did I get in?”_

_“Let’s just say…” The woman pursed her bright scarlet lips. “I know a guy. It took some pulling of strings, but… the people who run this place wouldn’t turn down a clever kid like you.”_

_“Clever, huh? Mamma and Pappa don’t see it that way,” Johanna said quietly. “They’d never say it, but I know they think I’m too much trouble for them. That’s why they sent me here to England. So I can be someone else’s problem.”_

_“Hey.” Aunt Merrie’s tone was unusually gentle. “Your parents love you. They just… have a lot on their plate right now, with the shop to run on top of raising you and your brothers and your little sister. Trust me, everyone just wants what’s best for you, Johanna. You clearly need a challenge, and this is the perfect place to get it.”_

_The girl bit her lip. “Even if my English is really bad still?”_

_“Don’t worry about that. You’re gonna be fluent in no time. You’ll find your niche and settle in well with this crowd, I guarantee it.”_

_“What’s a niche?”_

_“It’s like… something special. Something that you can do brilliantly, which makes you invaluable.”_

_“Like how you’re really good at picking locks and sneaking around?”_

_“Oh, you noticed that, huh?” Aunt Merrie laughed. “I… do have a few, uh, special skills, that’s true. And I’m sure you’ll find something you excel at that you can dedicate yourself towards, too.”_

_“Maybe.” Johanna sounded doubtful. So far, all she’d been good at was getting into fights and being scolded by whatever adult was responsible for her at the time. “I… think I do have a nickname that I like, though.”_

_“Oh? What is it?”_

_“Joey.” Determination permeated her voice. “I want to be called Joey.”_

_Aunt Merrie looked surprised. “That’s, uh… an interesting choice there, kid. If you like it, then go for it, but it’s… well, it’s usually a boy’s name. At least in America, that is.”_

_“Usually. But that means not always.” The girl grinned, thrilled that she’d found a loophole in her older relative’s words. “I’m… already sort of an exception to the rule here, right? I mean, a lot of the other kids I’m gonna meet are orphans, and I’m not. So… I’ll be the odd one out no matter what.”_

_“Heh. I guess that’s true.” The woman reached over and ruffled her young relative’s hair. “And stop worrying. You’ll fit in just fine, kiddo.”_

_“Next stop, Winchester,” came the automated voice from the train’s speakers._

_“Well,” Aunt Merrie said, getting up and pulling the large black suitcase down from the overhead compartment. “Looks like we’re almost there. You ready, Joha-- er, Joey?”_

_Taking a deep breath as she rose to her feet, Joey nodded. “I’m ready. Whatever’s out there, I can handle it.”_

_The woman smiled at her. “Of course you can. You’re the toughest damn kid I know.”_

A sudden _snap!_ broke Joey out of her thoughts, and she glanced over to see that Dr. Mackenzie had put the cap back on the final needle. He tossed it into the properly-marked disposal bag before addressing his patient. “Alright, there, little guy. You’re all done.”

“See?” Joey murmured, scooping the kitten up and giving him a kiss on the head. “Wasn’t so bad, now was it? Nooo, you’re just being a big baby. You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Sliding Figaro back into his kennel, she went back to the front desk and put the charge on her credit card. Vet bills weren’t an expense she ever thought she’d have to deal with, but the ridiculous amount of money granted to her through her salary was far more than enough to make up for it. Yes, Figaro was trouble, but she’d be damned if he wasn’t worth every single bit. 

† --------- † --------- † 

When she made it back home, she immediately took the kitten to her room and let him out before going into the kitchen to find herself a snack. The Empire State Building: Living Room Edition was almost finished, and Near had brought out the stepladder in order to complete the final rows. He didn’t even turn around when she passed by him, munching on an energy bar. “The basement suite still needs to be cleaned and prepared.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know that. But I’m still not entirely sure why you spent the entire day up here building that thing instead of, I don’t know, figuring out how to work the vacuum cleaner?”

“Like I said, I’m busy working on the case.”

“Okay. Fine. Whatever. Do you at least have any new insights?”

“No,” he replied, reaching up to put another Lego brick in place.

“Fat lot of good you are,” she muttered under her breath. 

He sighed. “Please just go deal with the basement suite.”

“Ugh.”

“And not just the bedroom, either. I want the kitchen and the bathroom cleaned, too.”

“Ughhhhh.”

_I think I actually miss Kira right about now,_ she thought bitterly as she threw the energy bar wrapper into the trash and headed down the stairs. _At least back then I got some action. Now I’m just a glorified maid with firearms and combat training._

The house they had bought as their close-to-Washington D.C. base had come equipped with two fully-independent suites, one on the main floor, and the other in the basement. At first, the intention was for Joey to have the downstairs area as her living quarters, but that plan was quickly quashed on their first night in the house. Near had gotten up at one in the morning to retrieve a glass of water from the kitchen, only to step on a Lego he had left lying around. His startled yelp had sent Joey into an instant panic, leaving her no time to properly pull on her prosthesis. But hurriedly climbing a flight of stairs with only one foot proved to be a much more difficult task than she had anticipated. She had only made it halfway up before she had to crawl on her hands and knees, the heel pad that had been left over from the surgical amputation she’d had to go through seven years ago unable to support her full weight in her haste.

It was fortunate, she remembered, that it was a Lego brick and not an assassin that had gotten to Near that night. When she had finally reached him, he was irritated and gasping in pain, but still very much alive. From then on, she took the bedroom right next to his on the main floor, leaving the basement suite for the occasional guest-- usually one of the former SPK members who needed to stay overnight while working with the two of them on a case. 

Joey wondered who Near had brought on this time as she ran the vacuum over the carpet, trying to suck up all the cat hair that had gotten everywhere. As far as she was aware, Lidner was out of town, caring for her sick mother. Gevanni lived close enough nearby that he didn’t usually have to spend the night, and Rester was loath to be away from his family for any longer than a day or two at most-- not nearly substantial enough of a time frame to justify her putting in the effort to actually clean the downstairs kitchen. 

She plugged in the fridge and cleaned the dust off of its shelves before moving on to wipe down the kitchen counter. _Maybe this is Near’s way of getting back at me for bringing a kitten into the house. I didn’t think he even knew how to hold a grudge, but this is a good first step in the ‘spiteful asshole’ direction, I guess._

Tossing the dirty rag onto the pile she had accumulated over the cleaning spree, she took a step back and surveyed her handiwork. _Good enough._

The last thing on her list was making the bed, and she pulled the spare sheets out of the downstairs linen closet. After wrestling them onto the king-sized bed, she fluffed the pillows and pulled the quilt overtop as a finishing touch. _Heh. I may be a glorified maid, but I’m a damn good one._

† --------- † --------- † 

“There. The stupid basement suite is ready,” she grumbled to Near, flopping down on the living room couch. “You’re welcome.”

“Excellent,” he responded, a small smile lighting up his face as he placed the final Lego brick on his masterpiece. “Your timing, as always, is perfect. In fact…” 

Two sharp knocks sounded at the door. 

_Ah, and there he is now._ “Joey, could you--”

“Already on it.” She got up off the couch and meandered over to the front door, her hand grasping the handle. But when she pulled the door open, she felt her heart skip a beat. Her eyes widened as she basked in the sight of someone she hadn’t been sure if she would ever see again. “Mello?”

He gave her a weary smile. “Hey, Jo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this after midnight so it definitely counts as sticking to my schedule, right? XD Chapter 3 will be up on March 17th and then I'll try to keep to the plan of once-a-week updates. I have quite a few chapters written so I should be able to stay ahead!
> 
> I should note in regards to this chapter (and future ones) that all my knowledge of Swedish comes from Duolingo, Google Translate, and language forums, so if anyone who's fluent actually happens to stumble across this fic and see I've made a mistake, do feel free to let me know and I'll correct it! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to check this story out so far, I really really appreciate any and all engagement with it!! Questions? Comments? Just wanna say hi or talk about OCs? Find me on tumblr here at supermarine-silvally :)


	3. We Meet Again

She was both nothing and everything like he remembered.

Long gone were the days of messy blonde pigtails that never quite hung evenly over her shoulders, the ones that an eleven-year-old version of himself couldn’t help but pull during math class every time she leaned back in her desk chair. Though this wasn’t the first time he’d seen her with her shorter haircut, her wavy straw-coloured hair curling just past her chin, it was still strange to see her present herself so… maturely. Yet as he gazed at her, standing there with the front door hanging ajar, he could still see the faint spectre of the little girl who used to put worms down the back of his shirt and once kept watch while he squeezed super glue all over the seat of Roger’s office chair. 

Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in tight. He felt himself instantly tense up, unsure of how to respond and unwilling to acknowledge the accelerated beating of his heart. After a few seconds, she pulled back, her ice-blue eyes narrowing as she examined him. “Am I… taller than you?”

“What?” He immediately sized her up, mentally comparing the two of them. His face paled in horror as he realized that she was unfortunately correct. “Nope. No way.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “Oh my God, I am! I’m totally taller than you!”

“Your stupid doorway is uneven,” he protested.

“Not by that much.” She smirked, crossing her arms. “You just don’t wanna admit that I beat you at something.”

He scowled. “Height isn’t everything.”

“It sure was the last time you wanted to compare. If I recall, you interrupted Roger in the middle of a meeting and demanded that he measure us.” She glanced over her shoulder, calling out, “Hey, Near! Guess what? I’m taller than Mello now!”

“Congratulations,” came his muffled reply, and Mello couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. 

“So, um… What brings you here?” she asked Mello, sounding almost dazed as she returned her attention to him. _I mean… It’s been months since I last heard from you. Where the hell have you been? Why show up now? What, exactly, are you after? ...Do I even want to know at this point?_

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole situation. “I ran out of money, but I still have my half of L’s inheritance to collect, and, uh… Near’s letting me use the basement suite in the meanwhile.”

_You actually asked Near for help?_ was the unspoken question that lingered in her eyes. And the follow-up statement: _Damn, you must be desperate._

“Oh.” A heavy silence settled in the air as they stared at each other, processing the situation in real time. Joey blinked first, giving her head a shake as if trying to clear her mind. “Oh! Sorry, um-- come on in!” she said apologetically, stepping out of the way to let her old friend into the house. 

Mello whistled as he glanced around. “Nice place. Must’ve cost a fortune.”

“It wasn’t cheap,” she admitted. “Nor were the renovations we had done to the house. The walls are reinforced with titanium and concrete and stuff, and the windows are all bulletproof glass. I’m pretty sure we could get hit by a nuke and never know. I can show you the panic room later, if you want. It’s pretty cool.”

“Ha, a nuclear bunker in the middle of American Suburbia. Impressive.”

“I know, right? It’s the perfect cover. Heh. If you ever want free extra security, just move into a neighbourhood with a bunch of paranoid upper-middle class white people.” She made a face. “You can’t even paint your fence around here without someone reporting you to the local Homeowners Association.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Speaking from experience, I presume?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure it was the douchebag across the street with the ‘Don’t Tread On Me’ flag hanging in his window, ironically enough. We, uh… don’t get along. And no, I didn’t start it. ...Well, not really. Unless you count trying to explain how marginal tax rates work in Scandinavia as a provocation.” 

“You haven’t even been in this neighbourhood for a full year and you’re already making enemies of the locals.” He smirked. “Shit, Jo. You really haven’t changed a bit.”

“Hey, I only mess with people who deserve it.” She glared at him pointedly, and he got the distinct feeling she was no longer solely referring to her hypocritical libertarian neighbour. As if on instinct, he rubbed his jaw, remembering their early days at Wammy’s House. 

“Here.” She held out her hand. “I’ll bring your stuff downstairs while you take your shoes off. That’s a house rule, by the way. Socks, bare feet, slippers, whatever-- but no shoes indoors.”

He slid the half-empty backpack off his shoulders and handed it to her, watching as she darted down the stairs and disappeared around the corner. It felt strange how naturally teasing her had come back to him. _I don’t have any hard feelings about, well, any of it,_ she had said, as if resetting everything that had gone wrong between them would be as simple as flicking a switch. _The day I got my photograph back from Near, we had an armed stand-off in the SPK headquarters… Is it even possible to truly recover after something like that? After everything you did… After everything I did… Are you really able to move on so quickly, Joey? Or are you merely pretending?_

“Mello… I’m pleased you were able to arrive on time. I trust that you had no major setbacks getting here?”

Near’s voice startled Mello out of his thoughts. He felt his entire body instinctively stiffen as he caught sight of his former rival, standing in the hallway across from him and twisting a lock of hair in his fingers. _Be nice. He’s not your enemy anymore._ “No. I didn’t.” 

If Near could detect the guardedness of Mello’s tone, he made no show of it. “I’ve already taken the liberty of informing our neighbours that we have a guest staying with us so they know not to alert the authorities, should they see you around.”

Mello said nothing, only stared at him as if waiting for him to drop the act and call out the National Guard. How the white-haired young man held no hostility towards him was still something that had him completely baffled. 

_“You just don’t get it, do you?! The very idea of working with you makes me sick to my stomach! I hate you more than anything else in the whole world!!!!”_

Those words he had shouted at Near on the day he left Wammy’s House echoed in his mind as their eyes met. As always, Near’s face bore no noticeable expression, while Mello hoped that his own didn’t just visibly go through all five stages of grief. 

“Please join us for dinner tonight, once you’re settled,” was all Near said. 

_I’d rather eat out of a dumpster than share a meal with you,_ Mello caught himself thinking. _No. I’m a guest here. I gotta be polite._ “Uh, I’m not hungry.”

“Then your presence alone would be most welcome.”

“Come on, it won’t be so bad,” Joey broke in as she jogged back up the stairs. She gave him a hopeful smile. “Please?”

His mouth drew into a tight line. _I really don’t want to, but…_ As soon as his eyes met hers, he knew there was no getting out of it. _Ugh. You win._ “Okay. Sure. Whatever.”

For a moment, it almost looked like Near was smiling. “Excellent. Dinner is usually at six o’clock, but we can delay it until six thirty tonight so that you’ll have more time to unpack.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Mello shifted his attention over to Joey. “So, do I get the grand tour of where I’ll be staying now or what?”

“Sure. This way.” She turned around and headed back down the stairs. 

Mello was only too glad to follow her and escape Near’s presence. Being around his former rival, particularly in such a domestic environment, was far more unsettling than he thought it would be. _Why am I here again?_

“Hey, c’mon!” The sound of Joey’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She stood at the bottom of the staircase, her hands on her hips, looking rather bemused by his disgruntled demeanour. “Since when have you gotten so slow?” she teased him, a competitive grin lighting up her face. 

_Ah, right. As if I could have forgotten._

† --------- † --------- †

“So this over here is the kitchen and living room area-- there’s a TV with a DVD player, plus, like, hundreds of channels if you ever just wanna watch bad television, too…”

He nodded, taking in the sight of a long leather couch and a glass-topped coffee table sitting opposite the TV. As she pointed out each item, he directed his gaze over to the kitchen area, which came complete with a small dining set consisting of a table and four chairs, and a row of cupboards overlooking marble countertops and a stainless steel kitchen sink. Much to his delight, he noticed an electric kettle sitting on the counter next to the fridge. _And I can even have hot chocolate whenever I want. Nice._

After that, she led him down a hallway, pointing out both the bathroom and a boiler room containing a large hot water tank with a note stuck to its side, Joey’s handwriting warning that it was _VERY HOT!!!!!! DON’T TOUCH!!!!!_

“You’re gonna have to go upstairs if you need to do laundry,” she said apologetically. “I haven’t gotten around to installing a washer and dryer in the basement suite, mainly because I didn’t think I’d have to. But now that you’re here, I might as well.”

“You don’t have to do that. I…” He hesitated. “I won’t intrude on you guys for too long.”

“Oh?” She looked at him curiously. “Well, how long are you planning on staying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t know. Just until I get my half of L’s inheritance, however long that takes. And then I’ll go. It’ll be like I was never even here.”

“I… see.” If she was displeased by his statement in any way, her face didn’t betray a hint of it. “Come on, then. Bedroom’s just down here.”

“Wow,” was all Mello could think of to say when he caught sight of the massive king-sized bed in the centre of the bedroom. His backpack had been placed atop of it, awaiting his arrival. _Though I suppose, after months of couch surfing and dirty motel mattresses, anything would look like palace-worthy in comparison._

Next to the bed was a nightstand with a pull-out drawer and a drawstring lamp, while across from the door was the entrance to a closet. The room also contained a desk with a rolling chair and a large wooden dresser that looked as if it had been installed rather recently, the instruction manual still sitting atop it.

“Let me guess,” he said, pointing at the dresser. “IKEA.”

“EE-kay-ah,” she corrected him automatically. 

“Eye-kEE-ah,” he retorted with a smirk. 

She gave him a playful shove. “We’re not starting this again, dumjävel.”

“Okay, okay.” He sat down on the bed, surprised by how soft it felt underneath him. _Is this what a good-quality mattress feels like? ...Huh. I’ve been missing out._

“Oh, that’s right!” Her eyes lit up as she suddenly remembered something. “I should tell you-- I’m a mom now.”

“Wait, _what?!_ ” he sputtered, standing back up, his heart skipping a beat in shock. _No way-- Did she-- How is that even-- I mean, it’s technically been nine months… Anything could’ve happened while I was gone…_

“Yep, it’s true.” She dropped down to her hands and knees, pressing her head against the floor as she looked under the bed. “Ha. There you are. I knew you were under here.”

He watched as she stuck her arm under the bed, carefully pulling something out. “Ta-da!” In her hands, she held out a tiny black-and-white kitten. “Meet my son, Figaro.”

Relief washed over him as he realized what she had been talking about. “Heh.” He exhaled. “You got a cat. And it’s… Figaro, huh? After the Disney character or the opera?”

“Both, I think. It was Near’s idea. I was just calling him ‘Katt’.”

“Ha, well, he’s… uh… pretty cute, I guess.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She beamed. “I’m officially a Cat Mom now. Life is weird, huh?”

“Totally,” he agreed. _You never used to pay much attention to the cats that we had around Wammy’s House. I suppose… things really have changed. You’ve changed, Jo. But you seem happy, at the very least. Just like Matt was before I…_

“Mew,” said Figaro as he started to squirm. Joey put him down on the ground and he darted right back under the bed. 

“I was hoping he’d be a bit more friendly, but I suppose he’ll come out later when he wants his dinner.” Her tone was apologetic. “Oh, um, speaking of which, I should get started on ours. Just come upstairs when you’re ready. And don’t you dare chicken out on me, because I will drag you to the table myself if I have to.”

He felt his chest tighten as she turned to leave. “Joey, wait.”

She glanced back at him. “Hmm?”

_Don’t you want to talk about any of it? Everything that happened during the Kira case aside, I didn’t even return your call for nine whole months. How can you be so nonchalant towards me? Don’t you care?_ He sighed, averting his gaze. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Giving him one last half-smile, she left him to his lonesome.

† --------- † --------- †

Mello emptied out the contents of his backpack onto the bed. All he’d brought with him was a few pairs of clothes, his battered leather wallet containing five US dollars, his iPhone, a water bottle, his well-worn toothbrush, a hairbrush, three chocolate energy bars, and the one item he’d refused to sell-- his rosary. He tossed his clothes haphazardly into the IKEA dresser. The manual on top of it told him that the product was named ‘Björksnäs’, the sheer unpronounceability of the word making him laugh. _Weirdest language ever. Maybe I can give Joey a migraine later listening to me try to say it._ Once he was sufficiently unpacked, he combed his hair and made his way upstairs, leaving the bedroom door open just a crack for the cat. 

The smell of cooking vegetables hit his nostrils as he wandered into the kitchen. Joey leaned against the stove, stirring something in a large pot with a wooden spoon. 

“What’s that?” he asked, coming up behind her and looking over her shoulder.

“Just soup,” she answered. “Nothing fancy. Though if I’d known you were coming by, I would’ve at least picked up some chocolate ice cream or something.”

His brow furrowed. “Near didn’t even tell you I was coming?”

“He told me to prepare the basement suite for a guest. I just assumed it was for one of the SPK. I never expected… Well, I never thought you’d… It doesn’t matter.” She sighed, averting her eyes to look down at the soup. “Honestly, I’m just glad we’re on speaking terms again.”

“Hey.” He lifted her chin, bringing her gaze to meet his. “Me, too.”

A small inkling of a smile appeared at the corners of her lips. “Here.” She picked up a spoon and dipped it into the soup before handing it to him. “Try it.”

He blew down on the hot liquid to cool it off before carefully sipping at it. “Mmm.”

“What do you think?” she asked, tilting her head. “Not enough pig liver? Should I add more?”

He nearly gagged. “What?!”

She snickered, lightly punching him in the arm. “Heh. You should’ve seen your face.”

“Hey, I’ve seen what your people eat,” he said defensively. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there _are_ actual organs in there.”

“Are you _still_ mad about that one time I dared you to try surströmming and you threw up all over the place before you even finished opening the can?”

“I’ve had to eat out of literal garbage bins before and it wasn’t nearly as awful as whatever the actual fuck that shit was.” He made a face. “Just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.”

She laughed. “I’d never seen anyone turn green like that before. Man, that was funny. Almost as funny as the time when a bird shit on your head at recess. Or when you split your pants trying to climb the fence during the field trip to the zoo, and you had to wear Linda’s bright-pink sweater around your waist for the rest of the day.”

He scowled. “Are you ever gonna let any of that go?”

“Nope. No dignity for you.” She turned off the dial on the stove. “Well, hopefully this tastes better than surströmming.”

Scooping the vegetable soup into two bowls, she brought them over to the table where Near had already taken a seat.

“Thanks,” Mello heard his former rival say as he picked up the ladle and dumped some of the soup into the third bowl Joey had left for him on the counter. When he made his way over to the table, he took the spot next to her. It was also the furthest away from Near as he could possibly get. 

The first few minutes were silent, which Mello was grateful for. It had been quite a while since he had had a nice, satisfying, healthy meal. The amount of times he had had his ‘dinner’ at a McDonald’s in the past month was frankly a little bit embarrassing. Even the thought of eating another Big Mac or Fillet o’ Fish made him feel ill. He had gotten so tired of the processed food that he had even taken to substituting his fries for salad, an act that would have horrified a younger version of himself. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Mello,” said Near, finally breaking the silence. “You’ve been quite busy these past few months.”

Mello scowled and dropped his spoon into his bowl of soup, splashing some of the liquid onto the table. “Ugh. I knew you were spying on me.”

“I wasn’t spying, no, but I did keep tabs on your locations.”

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“Just in case.”

“In case of what?” Mello asked warily. 

“In case you needed my aid,” Near answered matter-of-factly. “It’s no secret that you were involved in some pretty dangerous circles. Besides that, your invaluable assistance in solving the Kira case has left me somewhat in your debt, which I am happy to repay.”

“My _assistance?_ ” The blond scoffed. “If it wasn’t for me, you never would have known about the fake rule, you never would have found the real Death Note, and you _never_ would have caught that Yagami bastard.”

“I believe you are correct. Which is why I must thank you. You were a crucial piece in solving the puzzle, as it were.”

Mello could feel his hackles rising. “I don’t care what you think, Near. I’m not a goddamn piece in one of your weird blank puzzles. I didn’t do any of it for _you._ ”

“Mello…” Joey said in a warning tone, shooting him a look. 

Near seemed unperturbed. “Regardless of your intentions, the outcome proved beneficial for us both. Since becoming L, I haven’t had the chance to directly acknowledge you for your hard work.” 

Mello flinched at the mere casual mention of Near’s inheritance of the coveted title. He clenched his spoon hard enough to slightly bend it. _You’re not L! You’ll never be L! You’re not worthy of the ground L walked on! How dare you even refer to yourself that way?!_

Near continued, “I also want to say that I’m glad for this opportunity to share a meal with you. You are still my fellow successor, even if I was the one to take L’s position, in the end.”

“God, can’t you ever just shut the fuck up?!” Mello suddenly snapped, his anger bubbling over. He shoved his chair back, taking his bowl to go get a second helping. “Don’t get any of this twisted. I’m only here for the money. We’re not friends, and we never will be, _got it?!_ ”

Once he left the table, Near looked over to Joey, twirling a lock of hair in his fingers. “Did I say something wrong?”

She sighed and stood up. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to him.”

† --------- † --------- †

Wandering into the kitchen, she placed her empty bowl in the sink. “Hey, listen, Mello--”

“Spare me the lecture, Johanna,” Mello said bitterly, not bothering to look up as he angrily spooned more soup into his dish. 

“Spare me the pity party, Mihael,” she retorted, her irritation rising at his familiar abrasive tone. “Is it really too much to ask for you to not antagonize Near for like ten whole minutes?”

“Me, antagonize _him?!_ Did you hear what that little shit just said? It’s like he’s _trying_ to piss me off, and you know what, Joey? It’s fucking working.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose. Near just… struggles sometimes, with getting his message across. He’s actually very happy to see you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

He dropped the ladle back into the pot and glared at her. “You’re _always_ taking his side.”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side.” She pointed emphatically at the ground. “This house is neutral territory, okay? If you want to stay here, you’re going to have to leave your problems with Near at the door.”

“So you want me to leave,” he said flatly, crossing his arms. 

“Don’t be so immature. That’s not what I said and you know it. Near isn’t your enemy, Mello, and neither am I. In fact, we’re trying to help you.”

His scowl deepened. “Well, I don’t need his help, and I don’t need yours, either.”

“Okay. Fine.” She threw her hands up in her air, as if to surrender. “I got tired of arguing with you like this a long time ago, anyways. You can either spend the next few days or weeks or however long it takes hiding in the basement suite, or you can be an adult about it and make the most of your time here. Your choice.”

“That’s not--” he started to protest, but she cut him off, returning his glare with a fearsome one of her own. 

“If you’re going to stay here, I’m gonna make a few things very, _very_ clear. I want to do what I can for you, but I’m not your emotional punching bag, and neither is Near. If you have a problem with either of us, then just say it. I know I’ve fucked up in the past, but I’m not going to stand here and play passive-aggressive mind games with you while you sort your own shit out.” 

His eyes widened, and he averted his gaze, knowing full well he’d crossed a line. 

She sighed. “I’m sorry. That came out a little harsh. I really do want to help you, Mells. And more than anything, I want to be friends again. But you have to work with me here, okay?”

“Jo, I--”

_RRRIIIIINNNGGG!!!!_ The shrill sound of the telephone drowned him out before he could finish speaking. 

Joey lunged at the phone, clicking a button and pressing it to her ear. “Hello?” 

Speaking in a hushed tone, she nodded along with what the person on the other end was saying, picking up a pen that was on the kitchen counter and scribbling something onto a notepad. “Okay… Huh, yeah… Sure… I’ll let him know. Could you transfer the files right away?... Okay, great, thanks. We’ll get right on it. Bye.” She hung up. 

“Well?” asked Near as he made his way into the kitchen, stacking his bowl atop the one Joey had already placed in the sink. “Important news, I take it?”

Joey nodded, grimacing. “That was Roger. There’s been another one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Now I have three chapters up! Gonna try to update every Wednesday if I can, for anyone who's interested in reading this nonsense lol it's just nice to have something to do that doesn't have to do with my dissertation :' ) 
> 
> Reads/comments/kudos very much appreciated!!
> 
> tumblr here :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh... Wow. I'm back in the fanfic-writing game. I wasn't sure I was gonna post this thing, but eh, what the hell. There's a pandemic out there and I've got nothing better to do with myself. A HUGE thanks to [Asraella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asraella/pseuds/Asraella) for being my test reader and encouraging me to start posting the damn thing, and thanks to everyone who takes the time to give it a chance. I know OC stories aren't everyone's cup of tea, but they're honestly what I prefer writing so I truly appreciate anyone willing to read/comment/leave kudos or engage with it at all!   
> (Also special thanks to my sister for letting me borrow her OC, Coral, for this chapter!)
> 
> I'll be posting the second chapter on March 15th and the third on March 17th, but after that, the fic will update every Wednesday. Have questions? Comments? Just wanna chat? hmu on tumblr here at [supermarine-silvally](https://supermarine-silvally.tumblr.com/) :)


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